Lyrics
[Verse 1]
“You ain’t gonna believe this shit”
Is how our stories start.
Somewhere between the gas receipt
And backing down in the dark.
I had a plan to fund these trips,
Made a website, bought more gear.
Now my hobby’s got a second job,
And the fish don’t volunteer.
I’m single, I don’t hide a thing,
Walk tackle through the door.
Disappoint myself at full retail,
Then head back out for more.
Hell, I was gonna spend it anyway,
That boat was gonna float.
Might as well keep the evidence
Of who was in the boat.
[Chorus]
Can fishing pay for fishing?
yeah, that's the mission.
we're gonna find out
Hell, we’re gonna see.
But that number on the bottom line
Ain’t what it means to me.
Another morning with my daddy,
My brother giving me shit—
Would I pay to make these memories?
Hell yeah, let’s run it!
Crooked Hooker, keep that camera rolling,
There’s more here than what we catch.
If all we bring home is a story,
I’d pay double to run it back!
[Verse 2]
Dad could use a fishing-line deal,
Somebody make that call.
He ain’t looking for a sample pack,
He needs the whole damn wall.
Marshall’s built another bracket,
Got the whole thing wired just right.
T says, “Does this boat get faster,
Or we camping here tonight?”
Mushy’s pitching Bud Light,
Got experience to spare.
Hasn’t seen a sponsorship check,
But the field reports are there.
Bailey’s still our Happy Happy,
Eleven’s coming through—
We can turn the camera sideways,
Still can’t fit this whole damn crew.
[Chorus]
Can fishing pay for fishing?
yeah, that's the mission.
we're gonna find out
Hell, we’re gonna see.
But that number on the bottom line
Ain’t what it means to me.
Another morning with my daddy,
My brother giving me shit—
Would I pay to make these memories?
Hell yeah, let’s run it!
Crooked Hooker, keep that camera rolling,
There’s more here than what we catch.
If all we bring home is a story,
I’d pay double to run it back!
[Verse 3]
Old Hickory on a Thursday,
Guntersville for a few,
Chickamauga gave the boat her name
In letters stuck on new.
Pickwick’s got a chapter,
Eufaula’s got a tale,
And most the best stuff happens
Before we never hit the scale.
There’s fuel and rooms and entry fees,
And line stuck in a tree.
A camera full of “DAMMIT MUSHY!”
Taking up another TB. (terabyte)
Sell a shirt, maybe land a sponsor,
Put some fuel back in the tank.
We’ll give ’em honest time on water—
We Can’t promise fish will thank ’em.
[Breakdown]
Mushy wants a Willie’s deal,
Got a pitch he wants to use:
“Does it come with a mute button?
There’s a setting I would choose.”
Eleven didn’t sign off,
That proposal’s under review.
He oughta know by now that silence
Ain’t included with this crew.
[Bridge]
I built a place to keep these days
Before the details disappear.
So I can pull a picture up
And hear that laugh right here.
A largemouth makes a photograph,
But Dad behind that grin—
That’s why I save the whole damn thing,
So I can be there once again.
Bring your people, keep your stories,
Give those good days somewhere to live.
We’re lucky just to get out here—
What a hell of a thing that is.
[Final Chorus]
Can fishing pay for fishing?
yeah, that's the mission.
Hell, we’re gonna see.
If it buys another day like this,
That’s plenty good for me.
Another morning with my daddy,
My brother giving me shit—
Would I pay to make these memories?
Hell yeah, let’s run it!
Crooked Hooker, keep that camera rolling,
Let the next good chapter start.
Keep the receipts, keep the memories,
Keep your people in the heart.
[Outro]
“You ain’t gonna believe what happened”—
Pull a chair up, stay a bit.
Can fishing pay for fishing?
yeah, that's the mission.
we're gonna find out
Hell yeah, let’s run it!
